


I'd sit for hours (staring into open flame)

by ASheepsLife



Series: KIA, or: What else is new? [1]
Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Post-Movie: The Losers (2010), Temporary Character Death, What else is new, brief angst, happy ending - don't worry!, of course it takes one of them nearly dying for them to get their shit together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 15:04:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20194228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASheepsLife/pseuds/ASheepsLife
Summary: Wherein a simple mission goes south and Jensen gets caught in the crossfire.





	I'd sit for hours (staring into open flame)

**Author's Note:**

> A story about Jensen and Cougar - from Clay's perspective, for some reason.
> 
> Rated T because Clay wouldn't stop swearing.
> 
> Title from Hozier's "Arsonist's Lullaby", because how else do people name their fics?

“'_Tumble out of bed and stumble to the kitchen, pour myself a cup of ambition, yawnin’ and stretchin’ and try to come to life.'_”

Clay suppressed a sigh as Jensen’s voice came through over the radio, somewhat under his breath but nonetheless clearly audible.

“'_Jump in the shower and the blood starts pumpin’. Out on the streets the traffic starts jumpin’_…'”

“He knows the goal is _not _to get caught, right?” came Pooch’s voice from the front of their getaway van/command center. Clay kept his silence. He appreciated the man’s level-headedness, and if he needed to maintain it by complaining, then Clay was going to let him complain.

“'_Workin’ nine to five, what a way to make a living. Barely getting by, it’s all taking and no giving…'_”

Clay couldn’t help but be relieved that Aisha wasn’t with them on this one – and not just because their admittedly volatile relationship was not always easy on the team. She had little patience for people not taking missions seriously, and while Jensen was one of the most competent damn operatives Clay’d ever met, anyone not familiar with his…idiosyncrasies could easily get that impression.

As it was, they intended to pull this little exercise in data theft off with as little stink as possible. Jensen had gone into the office building, which lay abandoned for the night except for one lone security guard at the main entrance, expertly incapacitated by Jensen. Pooch was behind the wheel of their van and Clay on comms in the back, in case backup and/or a quick getaway was needed; Cougar was sequestered on long-range lookout for any potential threats.

“'_You would think that I would deserve a fair promotion. Want to move ahead, but the boss won’t seem to let me. I swear sometimes that man is out to get me_.'”

“Jensen, you trying to tell me something?”

“_Wouldn’t dream of it, boss. Just trying to keep up that workin’ spirit._”

“May I remind you that the objective is to remain undetected?”

“_Relax, there’s no one here. Aaand I’m in. Besides, Cougar loves listening to my dulcet tones. Ain’t that right, Cougs?_”

There was a soft snort from their sniper.

“_Aww, you say the sweetest things._”

Clay decided to intervene before the two of them could start in on their customary we are not flirting, Colonel, have you never heard of friendly banter? that they regularly subjected the others to.

“Alright, focus up, people. This is a simple in and out job, no need to –”

“_Movement. West entrance_,” Cougar’s curt report interrupted him.

“Two vehicles,” confirmed Pooch, who had a vantage point through the side window. “At least four men.”

“_South entrance, too,_” Cougar broke in again.

Leaning into the driver’s cab, Clay could indeed make out two dark, nondescript SUVs that had spat out four heavies clearly armed and gearing up to enter the building. Jensen must have tripped an alarm they hadn’t known about.

“Jensen, we’ve got company. We’ll try and stall them. Cougar, can you pin the ones at the South gate?”

“_Sí._”

“Pooch and I will keep these guys occupied.” Clay gave Pooch a nod and they slipped out of the van. “Jensen, how long do you need?”

“_Well, sir, you can’t rush genius, but I’m sure you’re going to, anyway._”

“Jensen!”

“_Give me…six minutes._”

“Copy that. If at all possible, try not to come out the South or West exits.”

Drawing his gun, Clay turned to Pooch, who already had his at the ready.

“No unnecessary risks. We’re just keeping them distracted.”

Pooch nodded his assent, and they sprang into action.

They had to fight harder than expected; those fuckers were determined to get into the building. He and Pooch had managed to get in between them and the entrance and were having a hard time not getting driven inside.

“Cougar, how’re you holding up?” Clay called over the sound of bullets burying themselves into the maintenance van they’d taken cover behind.

“_All good__._”

Clay straightened up and nailed one of the assholes through the blown-out windows of the van.

“Jensen, what’s your status?”

Ducking back down, he waited for a response, while the wing mirror next to him exploded from a ricochet.

“Jensen!”

“_Yeah, loud and clear_,” his techie finally came in. “_Good news is, I got the data_.”

Clay and Pooch shared a look.

“What’s the bad news?” Clay asked as Pooch returned a volley around his side of the van.

“_Bad news? Who said anything about –_”

“Jensen, I swear to God.”

“_Oh, just some unforeseen complications._”

“I hate unforeseen complications,” Pooch groused as he reloaded. “Another one down. Two to go.”

“_Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered_,” Jensen continued. “_Why don’t you all go ahead and get clear of the building. Might have to make a running start_.”

Clay’d had about enough prevarication.

“Jensen, what the hell is going on in –”

“_Just go!_”

“_Boss –_”

“I know.” Clay didn’t need Cougar’s urgent interjection to realize what Jensen was doing. He could recognize when someone was trying to get rid of him. “It’s a fucking trap. Cougar, can you take care of these two clowns for us?”

“_Sí. Boss –_”

“On it. Cover me,” Clay instructed Pooch. “Jensen, I’m coming in.”

“_No!_”

Ignoring Jensen’s protest, Clay waited for Pooch’s signal and was about to make a break for the entrance. Then, the building exploded.

***

By the time Clay finally managed to extract himself from the overly-helpful paramedic trying to convince him he needed to go to a hospital, he had lost count of the number of times he’d imagined strangling the man. The only reason he hadn’t was the bone-deep exhaustion that had taken hold of him somewhere in the middle of telling some obdurate cop for the fifth time that, no, we didn’t see where they ran off to, officer, we had taken cover like any reasonable person would, trying not to get our fucking heads blown off when these maniacs decided to have their shoot-out right next to where our van had the misfortune of breaking down. They’d just had time to dispose of their gear and sabotage the van’s engine enough to make their cover story believable before the first flashing lights had rolled up.

They couldn’t leave, not before they knew whether…Not before they knew for sure.

Putting as much distance between himself and the ‘medical professional’ who wanted to hospitalize him for a _suspected_ concussion as he could, Clay caught sight of Cougar, slumped on a low wall just outside of the kaleidoscopic sphere of emergency responders. Deciding that finding Pooch in the chaos of fire trucks, ambulances and cruisers could wait – he was probably in the clutches of his very own concerned EMT – Clay made his way over.

Cougar was sitting with his elbows on his knees, head down and hat low. He gave no sign of noticing Clay lowering himself onto the wall beside him.

Clay gingerly felt around the shiner Cougar had given him when Clay’d stopped him from charging into the burning building earlier.

Words had never been Clay’s strength, but now he was at an utter loss. He felt drained, empty as not even Roque’s betrayal had left him. The hate-fueled rage that would drive his pursuit of revenge was already simmering inside him, but he couldn’t give in to it now if he wanted to get his men through this.

His remaining men.

Fuck.

He’d never in his life wanted a drink as badly as in that moment.

Clay didn’t know how he was going to keep his team together after this. Jensen’s…Jensen’s loss would hit them all hard. They’d given up the pretension of merely being a combat unit long ago; surviving your own death would bind you together like little else could. But he was afraid it was going to break Cougar. Clay had never known what exactly had been going on between the two of them – judging by the UST that had frequently threatened to suffocate them all, not a lot. But whatever hadn’t happened in that regard, they always…_had_ always depended on each other absolutely, constantly gravitating around one another. Clay’d never seen a bond that fucking strong, in the service or out.

He opened his mouth, without having the first idea what to say, what he _could_ say.

“Cougar…”

“Don’t.”

The rebuttal was quiet but no less sharp for it.

Turning his head, Clay studied one of the most self-controlled men he’d ever met. Cougar wasn’t showing any outward signs of grief or distress. Instead, he looked gaunt, fragile, reduced to an intangibility that might shatter at the slightest disturbance. Like some integral part of himself had gone.

As Clay let his eyes wander helplessly over the scene before him, they fell on Pooch coming towards them – and on the person next to him.

Clay’s insides did a swoop he would deny till his dying day as he rose from his perch. Son of a bitch…

“Cougar.”

Turning towards the man in question when he gave no response, Clay tried again.

“Cougar –”

Before he could say anything else, Cougar shot to his feet and got right up in his face, eyes blazing.

“Don’t,” he hissed, and the unmistakable warning might have had a more reasonable man back off.

As it was, Clay merely tilted his head to the side pointedly. “Look.”

Clenching his jaw, Cougar turned his head in the indicated direction – and Clay got to watch up close as the blood drained from his face and the tension that had thrummed in every line of his body left him.

Limping towards them, blood all over one side of his face, heavily supported by Pooch but walking under his own steam, was Jensen.

He’d already spotted them, grinning like a maniac even as he swayed into Pooch.

Cougar, looking like he’d seen a ghost, started towards them. Fighting a wave of embarrassingly giddy disbelief of his own, Clay trailed after him. Of course the punk made it out. He should’ve known.

They were barely within reasonable shouting distance when Jensen called out: “There are my other two favorite people! Man, am I glad to see you. I almost didn’t, you know. Got thrown clean out of a second-story window! Can you believe it!?”

‘Painkillers,’ Pooch mouthed as they came to a stop, and Clay could see the provisional patch-up job that had been administered to a gash along Jensen’s hairline. He just hoped no one was overhearing Jensen blowing massive holes into their cover story.

Cougar was still staring wordlessly at Jensen, and Clay thought even he might’ve withered under that intense gaze. He also wondered if he was going to have to intercept any punches. Jensen looked like his injuries didn't need compounding by getting slugged, no matter how well-deservedly.

He also, however, seemed to bask in the attention. Glasses apparently the only casualty of the explosion, he was blinking at Cougar, and his face was so open to the play of emotions Clay almost felt like he was intruding on something deeply private.

“Cougs, I am the most glad to see you. Don’t tell the others – oh.”

He trailed off when Cougar all but flung himself at him with enough force that Clay was sure they’d have both gone ass over teakettle had Pooch not been there to stabilize them. Wrapping both arms tightly around Jensen, Cougar buried his face in Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen returned the embrace somewhat awkwardly, seeing as he had one arm still slung over Pooch’s shoulders – but no less enthusiastically.

“And I am so glad you’re letting me be part of this,” Pooch said, a long-suffering look on his face. “No really, thank you so much. You’re making my day, here.”

He was summarily ignored.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Clay had just started to wonder if they were going to be standing there long enough for it to get awkward – well, more awkward – when Cougar pulled back, just far enough to look at Jensen again.

“Never. Do that again.”

Jensen opened his mouth, probably to put his foot in, but Cougar headed him off by kissing him, hard.

Clay felt his eyebrows shoot up his forehead.

“Really? Now?” he wanted to know, just as Pooch, still entangled with the other two, started protesting.

“Oh, come on, leave me out of this! Yo, earth to lovebirds, innocent bystander here!”

He didn’t seem to be getting through. At all.

Deciding that he didn’t need to witness any more of this, Clay turned and started in the direction of their van. At some point he was probably going to reprimand Jensen for being a self-sacrificial idiot, but he figured Cougar would give him a good dressing down himself – in more ways than one.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Pooch called after him. “Don’t you dare leave me here! Clay, you asshole, get back here! Clay!”


End file.
